Friday, November 2, 2007

She was around 2 feet tall, had bright intelligent eyes, light brown hair and she walked with a grace that would put a cat to shame. She had a pride of a Queen but yet she was very approachable and made friends with everyone ranging from small kids to old uncles and aunties. But she could be very ferocious if you made her cross. The bravest souls would crumble before her if she was mad. She was the darling of our entire colony; we called her ‘Cookie’. She was the grandest street dog I have had the chance to come across.

She did not belong to one family in particular; she belonged to our entire lane. She would walk with us to our school (which happened to be very close) and hang around there the whole day playing with the kids during break time, then walk back with us once the school was over. My friend and I used to go for long walks in the mornings and evenings, she would accompany us then too. We would feel safe with her around us. Boy was she possessive. If we showered our attentions on any other street dog, she would not do anything while we were around but once our backs were turned that dog would get it. The most ferocious of dogs were scared of her and treated her with reverence. It embarrasses me to say it but my dog is a big time coward. Sometimes even a cat would scare him. He showed that he was jealous of cookie whenever we paid her any attention but definitely felt stronger with her around when we used to take him for walks. He would turn from a rat to a tiger in her presence.

We used to keep our gate bolted to prevent all the other street dogs from entering, but she would elegantly open it and stroll in and perch herself on the seat in the yard. If she saw something outside that she had to be a part of she would deftly jump over the wall and be outside in a jiffy. My dog would be left behind wondering stupidly ‘how in the world did she manage such a Herculean task’.

Gosh I miss her! Last year my brother visited our old home and he saw her. He said that she had grown old and weak now and did not recognize him. She was never the over affectionate type of dog who would start licking every part of your body their tongue gets access to, but she did not show a single sign of recognition when he approached her. Not even a wag of her tail. Then one day my brother called and said that one of his friends informed him that she passed away. I didn’t know what to say. I cannot imagine her as a weak dying dog. She would always be the extraordinary super dog to me and that is how I remember her and always will. Maybe she is out there somewhere in the doggy heaven amazing the others up there. I love you cookie.

1 comment:

ramer...thoughts on an overdrive!! said...

u know u have a beautiful way of narrating and coonecting to experiences...tha require real good memorry!!

thats mah memory is real bad. i dont remember much of mah childhood!